


Love Will Scar Your Makeup

by OomnyDevotchka



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bondage, Dom/sub Undertones, F/F, Mild Painplay, Mildly Dubious Consent, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-15
Updated: 2013-05-15
Packaged: 2017-12-11 23:57:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/804736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OomnyDevotchka/pseuds/OomnyDevotchka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Allison’s not just rebellious. Allison’s <i>dangerous</i>, and Lydia doesn’t think she’ll ever get the sight of Allison plunging twin knives into Isaac’s chest, face blank and remorseless, out of her mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Will Scar Your Makeup

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Stop-Drop-Howl](http://stop-drop-howl.livejournal.com) for the prompt "Beware the nice ones". This was written in like four hours, and is unbeta'd, so if you see any glaring mistakes, feel free to drop me a comment and let me know.
> 
> This may be considered underage in some areas, as are most Teen Wolf fics.

           The first indication Lydia gets that Allison Argent may not be as sweet as she seems comes out the night that she sneaks out of her house against her father’s express orders.

            Lydia’s a bit surprised, because Allison has always come off as the goody two-shoes type, ready to toe the line and obey her parents’ wishes. It’s the main reason Lydia had decided to become friends with Allison, actually: as much as she hates to admit it, she sometimes needs an angel on her shoulder to prevent her from getting too mean.

            Lydia had written that incident off, though, because Allison’s parents are actually crazy over-protective, in a way that would cause even the most saintly person to rebel. Besides, compared to some of the things Lydia’s done? Sneaking out to go on a bowling date barely registers on the rebellious scale.

            A few months later, though, after all the shit with the werewolves goes down, Lydia is kicking herself for not seeing the signs.

            Allison’s not just rebellious. Allison’s _dangerous_ , and Lydia doesn’t think she’ll ever get the sight of Allison plunging twin knives into Isaac’s chest, face blank and remorseless, out of her mind.

***

            It’s a new school year, and everything’s pretty much fucked. Jackson’s gone, shipped off to a different school after his parents had finally had enough. Scott and Allison are still broken up, though Scott’s still trailing after her like a lost puppy. Really, he seems to have taken the job over from Stiles, who no longer seems to be drooling after Lydia at all.

            Lydia’s super not happy, basically. Her boyfriend (ex-boyfriend? They hadn’t really gotten a chance to talk before Jackson was shipped off, which, way to thank a girl for fucking _bringing you back to life_ , really) is gone, the one person she’d always depended on to boost her ego a little is no longer cooperating, most of the school still can’t forget about the whole running around the woods naked for three days thing, Peter Hale is still creeping around all undead, and, to top it all off, she’s actually terrified of her best friend.

            For the entire summer and then some, Lydia has avoided being alone with Allison. The only times they had really hung out were when Lydia, out of sheer boredom and loneliness, decided to hang out with the Hale pack. Allison would occasionally be there, trying to make up for the fact that she’d nearly killed everyone there, while avoiding Scott’s advances. They still hang out at school, sure, because Lydia feels safe surrounded by the other students. Their conversations stay light and superficial, skirting around discussion of the last few weeks of last school year.

            Despite her public persona, one thing Lydia is not is stupid, and she knows that this can’t last for long. Allison’s not the type of person to just let things go, and the air between the two of them is so fraught with tension that it’s going to come to a head any day now.  

            It happens on a Saturday. Lydia’s parents are off doing whatever it is they do when they’re not bothering her, so she has the house to herself. She’s lounging in bed, hair in a bun and wearing sweats, marathoning _Pretty Little Liars_ because it makes her feel better about her own fucked up high school career, when the doorbell rings. Lydia considers pretending she’s not home, but then it rings again. Sighing, she pauses the episode on a close-up of Hanna’s shocked face (and really, at this point, those girls should just not bother to be surprised by things any more), and goes down to the front door, fully prepared to tell whoever’s on the other side that she doesn’t want to buy any Girl Scout cookies, thanks.

            Instead, she opens the door to find Allison on the other side, posed as though she’s going to start knocking on the door next. “Lydia!” she says brightly, dimples popping out in her smile. “Wanna hang out? My parents are getting on my last nerve, I swear.”

            Shit. Lydia panics. “Um, I totally would, but…I’m sick,” she blurts, adding a weak cough for good measure.

            Allison’s smile disappears, replaced by a furrowed brow and puppy dog eyes. “Don’t lie to me, Lydia,” she says softly. “I know you, and if you were sick at all, you’d still be asleep.”

            Caught. Damn her predictability. Lydia has no choice but to stand back a little, allowing Allison into her house. Without speaking, the two of them climb the stairs to Lydia’s room, the way they have countless times before. Lydia moves her laptop, putting it into hibernate mode, and Allison settles down onto the newly cleared bed, hands clasped in her lap. “Are you going to tell me why you’ve been avoiding me?” she asks. “At first I thought you were just upset about Jackson, and needed some space, but I don’t think that’s what’s really going on here.”

            Lydia sighs and settles onto the bed, facing Allison. She knows she has to tell the truth, knows Allison well enough to realize that she won’t leave this alone until she’s gotten a satisfactory answer. “Wouldn’t you avoid someone who you’d seen literally stab someone else in the back?” Lydia asks, voice quiet but determined.

            The effect of her words on Allison is instantaneous. She draws herself up, dark eyes flashing. “You can’t blame me for that,” she argues. “My mother had just died, I was grieving!”

            “Most people don’t turn into killers when they’re grieving!” Lydia shoots back.

            Allison scoffs. “I didn’t _kill_ him.”

            “You wanted to.”

            “So what?” Allison stands up from the bed, pacing across Lydia’s room. “I thought the werewolves had killed my mother, ok, I was justified.”

            “And if Peter’s bite had turned me, would you have tried to kill me too?” Lydia counters, standing up as well.

            Allison seems shocked speechless.

            Lydia doesn’t allow that fact to dissuade her, because this rant has been building up inside of her for months, and she needs to let it out before she explodes. “And another thing,” she says. “You were absolutely not under the impression that Isaac had killed your mother, you were under the impression that _Derek_ had killed your mother. And what you did to Boyd and Erica? You think you’re some badass with a bow and arrow, fighting for justice or whatever, but you know what you actually are, Allison Argent? You’re a bully.” Lydia pauses and looks dead into Allison’s eyes. She hasn’t felt so powerful in months. “And I don’t trust you,” she finished softly.

            Allison’s lower lip is wobbling by the end of Lydia’s speech, dark eyes filling with tears. Lydia stays impassive, arms crossed over her chest. She’s not sorry about anything she’s said, and she’s not going to take it back.

            In front of her, Allison lets out a soft sob and drops to her knees, hanging her head. Her hair, loose around her shoulders, falls forward, exposing the delicate nape of her neck. She’s never looked so vulnerable. “Lydia, please” she chokes out. “I – you’re the only friend I really have left, and I miss you. I know what I did was wrong, and I will never, ever do anything like that again,” she finally looks up at Lydia. The tears have started to fall down her face, leaving glistening tracks in their wake. Lydia experiences a surge of jealousy, because Allison looks beautiful and delicate when she cries, in a way that Lydia never can. “Tell me what I can do to make it up to you,” Allison finishes softly.

            There’s this…idea that’s been sort of percolating in the back of Lydia’s mind ever since she first met Allison. An idea that she hasn’t ever allowed herself to think about too long, at least outside of her own ‘private time’, because Allison had always had Scott, and anyway, Lydia doesn’t even like girls. Not really, at least. Well, not all the time.

            Anyway, as Lydia looks down at Allison on her knees, in a position of complete submission, desperate to please, and the desire courses through her, more powerful than ever before. “Stand up,” she snaps, in a voice she almost doesn’t recognize as her own.

            Allison obeys instantly, rising rather unsteadily to her feet. She’s worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, and her eyes are huge and slightly confused, but she doesn’t make even a cursory attempt to disobey Lydia. It makes Lydia feel more powerful than she ever has before, and gives her the confidence to issue her next command. “Take off your shirt,” she says, still in that strange, harsh voice.

            This time Allison hesitates, little crease appearing between her eyebrows, but it’s only for a split second. She drops her hands to the hem of her t-shirt and slowly lifts it off, exposing her flat, pale stomach and breasts contained in a lacy push-up bra (Lydia knows it’s a push-up. She’d been with Allison when she’d bought it).

            Smirking in satisfaction, Lydia quickly goes to dig through her closet, hissing in triumph when she finds where she’d stowed the evidence of her terrible scarf phase. She pulls out a few of them, the long, skinny ones, and turns back around to face Allison, who’s fidgeting in the middle of the room, but hasn’t moved in any substantial way. “Lydia, what are you doing?” she asks.

            Lydia ignores the question. “Come here,” she orders, and hold your arms out in front of you.”

            Allison does, and Lydia quickly ties one scarf to each wrist, testing the knots quickly so that she can be sure that they’re tight enough to restrain, but not tight enough to hurt. She gathers the opposite end of both scarves in one hand and gives them a sharp yank, causing Allison to stumble in the general direction of the bed. “Lie down,” Lydia says, and Allison does, stretching her arms out over her head without being asked.

            “Good girl,” Lydia purrs, and Allison’s cheeks flare red. Quickly, not wanting to waste the moment, Lydia ties the ends of the scarves to her bedposts, so that Allison’s wrists are held fast, and she can’t escape. Lydia takes a moment to step back and survey the sight.

            Allison’s flat on her back, all stretched out, wearing nothing but her bra, a pair of tight skinny jeans, and her converse. Her face is still flushed, and her chest is heaving, rising and falling with each panted breath. Her pupils are blown, so wide that there is only a sliver of brown showing around them.

            Lydia’s never before felt so powerful, or so turned on. She can feel herself getting wet already and the arousal is building in the pit of her stomach. Slowly, making sure Allison’s eyes are following her the entire time, Lydia pull off her own shirt and lets her sweats pool to the floor, leaving her in only her bra and panties (which match, of course. Lydia would never be caught dead without matching lingerie). For the final touch, Lydia pulls the elastic out of her bun and shakes her hair out, letting it fall wildly around her shoulders. Though she can’t see herself, she imagines she looks feral, wild. The way Allison gasps and bites out a “Lydia,” arching her back slightly, corroborates the impression.

            In her element now, Lydia stalks over to where Allison is lying and stops at the foot of her bed, twirling a strand of hair around her fingers. “What should I do now that I have you like this?” she asks, tapping her lower lip with one perfectly manicured finger.

            Allison throws her head back and groans. “Lydia, please,” she says weakly.

            Lydia decides to get to work on the rest of Allison’s clothes. She starts with the shoes and socks, pulling them off as quickly as possible, but slows down when she gets to her jeans. She pops the button and drags the zipper down, pulling the jeans off Allison’s legs and leaving the two of them in an equal state of undress.

            The crotch of Allison’s panties is already soaked through. Lydia’s a little bit surprised – she never thought Allison would be into this. Apparently she was wrong, and she spares a second to wonder if Allison has been having the same kind of thoughts about Lydia that Lydia’s been having about Allison since the beginning of their friendship.

            Smirking, Lydia reaches behind herself and pops the clasp on her bra, letting her tits spring free. Keeping her eyes locked with Allison’s she pushes her panties down her thighs and immediately gets her fingers on her swollen clit, rubbing in little circles. Her mouth falls open at the touch and her back involuntarily arches. Allison moans again, and Lydia realizes that she’s moving her hips in little circles on the bed, as though it might cause her to get a little friction on her own clit.

            Lydia makes the executive decision that she’s not quite ready to put Allison out of her misery yet. Crossing over to her nightstand drawer, she rummages around until she finds her favorite vibrator, then goes over to where Allison is lying on the bed and straddles her hips, placing the vibrator on the bed beside her for later. “Do you want to come, then?” Lydia asks, moving her hips in little circles just above where she knows Allison wants her.

            “ _Yes,_ ” Allison groans. Her hair is now messed up from where she’s been moving her head around on Lydia’s pillow, and the flush is now spread all the way down her chest. “Lydia, _please_ , I need it.”

            “Do you think you deserve it, though?” Lydia asks conversationally as she unhooks Allison’s bra, chucking it across the room as soon as it’s free.

            Allison starts nodding frantically, but Lydia cuts her off by pinching one of her newly exposed nipples, _hard_. “I don’t _think_ so,” Lydia hisses, narrowing her eyes. “This is about me, not you. Understand?”

            Allison has tears in her eyes again, because Lydia still hasn’t let go of her nipple, but she’s not protesting. “Yes,” she chokes out. “Yes, I understand.”

            Lydia lets go. “Good,” she says. “Now tell me, Allison, have you ever eaten pussy before?”

            “No,” Allison says hoarsely.

            “Well you’re going to now,” Lydia says primly. “And if you do a shit job, I won’t let you come at all. If you do well…” she trails off and picks up the vibrator from beside her, flicking it on and letting it finish the sentence for her.

            Lydia waits for Allison’s nod and, when she gets it, moves slowly up the bed so that she’s squatting over Allison’s face. Allison’s first lick is tentative, but it feels amazing, and Lydia has to fight not to grind down. Despite the fact that she loves being in control, she doesn’t actually want to hurt Allison or turn her off completely, so she makes sure she has all her weight on her knees, even as Allison gets bolder and begins to slide her tongue over Lydia’s clit.

            “Oh _fuck_ ,” Lydia says. “Right there.” Allison gets faster and increases the pressure, and Lydia finds herself wishing that Allison’s hands were free so that she could slip a few fingers into Lydia as well. It’s good, though, better than it ever was with Jackson, even at the end of their relationship, and Lydia’s surprised. When Allison uses her teeth to gently push the skin around Lydia’s clit back and _sucks_ hard, Lydia bucks her hips once, twice, and comes.

            After she’s done trembling through the aftershocks, Lydia moves back down so she’s straddling Allison’s hips again. “How are you so good at that?” she asks, incredulous.

            A small smile is playing around Allison’s pink, swollen lips. “I’m a girl too, I know what feels good,” she says. The area around her mouth is covered with a combination of spit and Lydia’s slick, and Lydia suddenly wants nothing more than to kiss her, so she does, moving down so that their breasts are pressed together and sucking Allison’s lower lip into her mouth.

            They kiss for a long moment before Lydia remembers the task at hand and pulls back to focus on Allison, who’s more than earned her right to come.

            It’s almost difficult to pull the panties down Allison’s legs, they’re so wet, but Lydia manages, and begins to rub at Allison’s clit with her fingers while she reaches for the vibrator.

            Allison gives a full body shudder when she’s first touched, and she’s would so tightly that Lydia can tell it won’t take long to finish her off. Switching the vibrator to its lowest setting, so as not to overwhelm her, Lydia presses it right next to Allison’s clit.

            “Yes, more,” Allison gasps, and Lydia moves the vibrator closer, slowly, while, at the same time, she pushes two fingers into Allison.

            It’s strange, having her fingers inside another girl, but Lydia likes it, and she likes the way Allison tightens around her fingers even more. Before the vibrator even touches Allison properly, Lydia decides to switch tactics and pulls her fingers out, replacing them with the vibrator, which she’s switched to a higher setting.

            Allison actually lets out a scream at that, arching her back so severely that Lydia’s almost afraid it’ll break in half. “Lydia,” she sobs out, sounding too far gone to say anything else.

            Experimentally, Lydia uses her two slick fingers to spread Allison open and expose her clit, other hand still working the vibrator in and out of her. Quickly, before she can psych herself out about it, she dips down and repeats the move Allison had used to make her come, sucking the little pink nub into her mouth.

            It works. Allison shudders and moans, clenching around the vibrator. Worried that the stimulation will be too much, Lydia switches the device out and eases it out of Allison, while she rides out the aftershocks of her orgasm.

            Now that Lydia’s not turned on anymore, she’s afraid it’ll be awkward. She avoids Allison’s eyes as she unties the scarves from around her wrists.

            “So, you trust me now?” Allison asks when her wrists are free, moving over to lie on her side and using one hand to prop up her head. She looks breathtaking, dimpled smile out but eyes uncertain.

            Lydia smiles back and plops down next to her, bringing a hand up to stroke her cheek. “I might need a little more persuasion,” she jokes, and Allison rolls her eyes before bringing their lips together once more.   


End file.
